


one billion foolish things

by platonics



Series: himikiyo week 2020 [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Comfort, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Himikiyo Week 2020, Major Character Undeath, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Other, Reminiscing, Resurrected Shinguji Korekiyo, Resurrection, Serious Injuries, Trauma, canon typical talk of violence and death, not explicitly described tho, the inherent eroticism of breaking the laws of nature for your gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:13:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27932068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: “The kind of love that would motivate one to do anything for their partner,” they said in the dark, spidery fingers dragging up and down her side. “That is the most pure, the most powerful. It is the ideal all other forms of love strive for. That is what I believe.”Himiko tries the impossible.
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Yumeno Himiko
Series: himikiyo week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040634
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: himikiyo week





	one billion foolish things

**Author's Note:**

> himikiyo week day 4: **chapter 3** \+ ~~au~~
> 
> set several days after the third trial. thank you to johann for helping to make this one the best it could be.

"Aaaand open says me!" Ouma announced, straightening up from his hunched over position and beaming at her. "But I wonder...what did you want this for, Yumeno-chan? Not up to anything naughty, are we?" Looking at her with wide-eyed innocence, he lifted a hand to his chin, finger tapping thoughtfully. His lockpicking tools were already stashed away in his pocket again, hiding any evidence of what the two of them were doing there.

The problem with getting help from Ouma was always one of motive. It felt nigh impossible to know what he was thinking or what his plans were. Not trustworthy, that was for sure. Himiko didn't want to give him any ammunition for future shenanigans, especially with something so delicate. It couldn't be helped though. She needed him, no matter how painful that was to admit. So here she was, trying to think of a way to evade his question.

"Don't be weird," she muttered. "If you say things like that, people might get the wrong idea."

"The wrong idea, is it?" He giggled, smile shifting into something decidedly more malicious. "No, I think it's exactly the right idea. But hey, what do I know? I'll just leave you to it." Having leaned in to deliver that last sentence, close enough that she could nearly feel his breath, he then drew back abruptly, turning away. A lazy wave was delivered over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the dormitory. She hadn't even remembered to double-check that he was telling the truth about the door before letting him get away.

Thankfully, it hadn't been a lie. When Himiko tried the handle, the door swung open easily, emitting a soft creak. For the first time in a week, Shinguuji Korekiyo's room was open.

She took one step inside, then another. As she closed the door behind her, not wanting to be seen, the other hand flicked on the light, illuminating the space with cold fluorescence. The scent of incense still hung in the air.

"Right," Himiko whispered to herself. The dorm rooms were soundproof — there was no need to whisper. It just felt better that way, as if speaking at a normal volume would be somehow disrespectful. Disturbing the dead. Legs feeling as if they were made of lead, she shuffled over to the bed, easing herself down.

The comforter was soft as she ran a hand over it, identical to the one on her own bed save for the color. This one had a small stain at one corner too, a result of them gesticulating too enthusiastically while holding an open tube of lipstick. Mindlessly, her fingers trailed over to that small patch of red, faded from the attempts to remove it, but not entirely gone.

"You should have told me," she mumbled. "Maybe I could've helped. Didn't you want to get out together?" They told her plenty of other things, tales from faraway lands and their own past alike. Too much, maybe, considering the situation. Sharing incriminating details during a killing game was a risk most people would be wise to avoid. Korekiyo wasn't most people though.

_The day of the lipstick stain, she'd been sitting on the bed, right where she was now. She watched as they went through their routine, all without so much as glancing in a mirror. Stepping into the bathroom to look at their reflection would mean stepping away from her. That was the only reason she could think of for why they didn't, anyway, and it felt good to think of it that way. They were mid-story, explaining the customs of a mountain village they'd been working on an ethnography of._

_"So I guess you'll be wanting to get right back to your travels after getting out of here, huh?" she said, unable to keep the glum tone out of her voice entirely. She'd gotten used to spending time together every day, and wasn't keen on giving that up. Not to mention, their solo trips for fieldwork sounded nearly as dangerous as life in the academy. Himiko knew they loved it, but she couldn't help dreading the day they were able to go back to it._

_"Probably," they said. "I can't say for sure. Many things could happen between now and then, yes? Life has ways of turning all manner of plans against their makers."_

_"Well, yeah. I was just wondering." She shrugged, trying to act cool about it. Surprisingly enough, it wasn't met with irritation. Instead, they laughed, turning to look at her. Deft fingers set down the mascara they'd finished with and started opening a tube of lipstick._

_"My my, could it be that you're jealous? You don't want work taking up so much of my time, is that it?"_

_"I...no, that's not..." Especially after learning a bit about how awful their sister had been to them, she didn't want to do anything that could be misconstrued as excessively controlling or possessive, even if in this case, it was true._

_"It's quite alright. There's no need to get so worked up. In fact, I think it's sweet that you enjoy spending time with me so much. Rest assured, you will not fall to the wayside. That, I can promise. You've become very important to me, Himiko. Forgetting about you would be unthinkable." Gesturing widely, as if to indicate the precise amount of absurdity such an idea would involve, they accidentally smeared the lipstick applicator along the comforter._

_They were so absorbed in reassuring her that their closeness wouldn't end that it took them a minute or two to even notice._

At some point while indulging in her memories, Himiko had closed her eyes, leaning back against the pillows. The pillowcase against her cheek smelled faintly of their shampoo, making her eyes begin to prickle with unshed tears. Just the smell of jasmine was enough to make her cry. She really was a mess. She couldn't afford to wallow forever though. The longer she stayed there, the more likely it was that someone would wonder where she was. Time to focus.

She reluctantly straightened up, taking a look around. She was here to pack a bag, that was all.

It was easier said than done. Every item her eyes landed on seemed to bring forth another memory, a consequence of how much time they spent together in this small space over the past few weeks. Korekiyo's presence seemed to hang heavy in the air, like they might walk through the door at any moment.

The actual packing was easy enough, if she didn't think about why she was the one doing it. Everyone else still alive would certainly see it as a betrayal, at least initially. Even Korekiyo themself might, if she was being honest with herself. She hoped that wasn't the case, but how was she supposed to be sure she knew _anything_ about them anymore?

Folding outfits, slipping cosmetics into a ziploc bag to keep them safe on the short trip to her own room...The tasks were simple. They just shouldn't have been necessary. In another gesture of self-indulgence, she wrapped one of their jackets around herself, slipping it on. Oversized and warm, like so many other garments she'd borrowed from them before. Never where others could see, so as not to raise questions about their relationship, but that didn't matter anymore. She fully intended to keep the jacket on after leaving the room. She deserved that small bit of comfort.

_There hadn’t been any comfort for her in their trial, that was for sure. No matter how much she pleaded for an explanation, she never got it. Not a real one. She could see the pain in their eyes, hear the stuttered beginnings of countless responses, but no answers that went beyond that. Himiko was left with stories that she knew even Korekiyo didn't believe and cutting provocations, all carefully engineered to provoke her._

_They hugged her before the trial, mumbling reassurances. In hindsight, maybe it had been an early attempt to confess, to brace her for what was to come._

_"Saihara-kun will find the culprit easily, just like before," they said. "There's no need for you to worry. Death comes for everyone eventually, yes, but you have many more years ahead of you. I'm certain of it."_

_The conversation strayed to happier topics as they made their way towards the Shrine of Judgment hand in hand, an attempt at distraction from the inevitable, and Himiko didn't bother thinking too deeply about what they said. Why would she, when she could instead think about the feeling of their touch and how nice it would be to curl up together later?_

She should have known. She should have stopped them. That was the truth.

They didn't believe in the necronomicon either — that was another thing they said that day. They never believed there was a real way to bring back the dead, and maybe they were right. Himiko was just a stage magician. She was no expert on the paranormal. But she had to try. Going through a lifetime of not knowing would be unbearable.

"You can't blame me for trying, right?" she asked the empty room, giving the stack of clothes a final, absentminded pat before zipping the duffel bag closed around it. "I know you don't believe, so it only makes sense to try to accept it, but what if it's real? Wouldn't you want to get out of here together? You promised you wouldn't leave me behind."

Too soon, it was time to go back to her own room, bag in tow. Nobody saw her — a small mercy.

The duffel bag was cast aside on the bed. It was for the coming days, not right now. It might not be needed at all, if she was being honest. Only if this worked, and well...She didn’t know.

Her attempt wasn’t as fancy as Angie’s. Aside from the little flourishes necessary for a good magic show, arts and crafts had never really been her thing. She was always focused, single minded. Magic, fantasy, everything in a world separate from the one she was forced to be in. To her, art always felt like something more concrete, bringing imagination into reality. She didn’t have time to focus on other skills anyway.

The book said it didn’t matter as long as the effigy was labeled properly, so she was extra careful with that part. Contrary to her usual messy scrawl, Korekiyo’s name was flawlessly written on a sticky note, every stroke of every kanji precisely where it ought to be. As if lives depended on it (and one did, in fact). 

Then it was time to begin.

* * *

What she was witnessing was impossible. Sure, she hoped, wished in an irrational, lovestruck way that a little bit of magic would turn out to really be in the world right at the moment she needed it most. Life wasn’t like a love story though. She couldn’t _really_ expect that, so she’d kept her expectations low in an attempt to avoid getting hurt.

This was...This broke too many laws of reality to count. What the hell had she just _done_? Himiko’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking. She was used to that kind of thing happening when she panicked, tremors and such, but this was on another level. It was so jittery it was like it had a mind of its own. She was afraid she’d flick the lighter back on by mistake and burn herself, and wouldn’t _that_ just be the cherry on top of this shitty, shitty week? 

With great difficulty, she set it down on her desk with a soft clunk. There. That was one small problem solved. The scent of burning was still heavy in the air, charred paper and ink. Her legs were shaking too actually. She hadn’t even realized when she was still concerned with the lighter. It would be so easy to slump down to the floor, drop to her already bruised knees. Lay down right there and hope everything would be magically taken care of by morning.

She couldn’t do that though. She made a promise. She wasn’t going to run away from things anymore, and it seemed like that should be extra true for problems she caused herself. This most definitely fell into that category.

The floor was dirty now anyway, strewn with ashes, a spreading puddle of brackish water, and— 

Right. Okay. Deep breaths. This was what she wanted. What she’d wished for every moment she had alone for the past week. It appeared to be, anyway. There had been no sounds yet, no movement, no acknowledgment, but there was no way her eyes could play such a massive trick on her. Whether it turned out well or not, she’d done something that couldn’t be taken back.

She just had to think this through. Gaining enough control over her limbs to stagger over to her bed and take a seat on it, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine what Saihara would do. There was no way she could go wake him up at this hour to help her, but she could at least channel his detective instincts. First, he’d investigate and get all the facts.

She moved to the other side of the bed, legs safely tucked up beneath her, and peered down at the floor. The figure there was eerily still and quiet. Were they even breathing? This wasn’t how the necronomicon said it was supposed to go. Just as she was starting to stretch an arm out to try nudging them, they curled in on themself slightly, letting out a soft whimper of pain. She hadn’t even touched them yet.

“Ah!” Himiko flinched, recoiling. Her startled reaction was embarrassingly loud, but they barely reacted, just covering their eyes with an arm as if to block out the light. Their damp uniform was damaged, she noticed, tiny rips and charred bits of fabric here and there. A few long moments later, they moved their arm again, blinking up at her. Their gaze was hazy and unfocused, so unlike what she remembered from countless moments of intimacy.

“Himi...ko...-chan.”

“Yeah,” she said with a wobbly breath, fighting back tears. “It’s me, I’m here. You’re...alive. I think.” Would that be the appropriate term at this point, or would it be more accurate to say they were undead? She could still barely see them breathing. It was creepy. “It really worked.”

“What?” they mumbled, still sounding pretty out of it. “Could it be? The necronomicon?”

“Yeah,” she said again. There was no point in lying. Hesitantly, she reached down again. This time, instead of pulling away before actually making contact, she brushed some sodden hair out of their face.

_“Your hair is so pretty,” she murmured with a lengthy sigh, sitting cross legged in the grass. The courtyard was quiet, good for quality time together. If there were too many people around, Kiyo would probably pull away to make the whole thing seem less suspicious. Things like that had been hurtful at first, but they made it clear it wasn’t that they were ashamed of the relationship. They just didn’t want the rest of the class being suspicious of her by association — almost everyone seemed to believe that Kiyo was the shady type._

_“Well, thank you.” A low chuckle followed, something she felt all the way to her bones. “I do strive to take good care of it.”_

_“It shows. I don’t think anyone else could hope to compete.” To an outsider, her little comments might seem envious, but that wasn’t quite true. Yes, Himiko wished she was the kind of person who could turn heads like they could, but that wasn’t what she was thinking about at the moment. Mostly, she was just incredibly gay. Her hands moved lazily, plaiting their hair into a loose braid without even thinking about it._

_When her gaze landed on some wildflowers growing a short distance away though, a thought popped into her mind. Leaning forward from her position behind them, resting her chin on their shoulder, she proposed her idea._

_“I bet it would look even prettier with flowers.”_

_At dinner that night, a few people laughed, not trying too hard to hide their snickers, but Korekiyo didn’t bat an eye. They just sat there primly in their usual spot, bright petals standing out against the black of their hair._

Her hand lingered against their forehead for a little longer than usual, wanting to check their temperature. Not corpse cold, thankfully. If anything, it seemed like they might be too warm. That made sense, given how it seemed like they’d been dumped right out of the soup pot and into her room.

“Why? After what I did...why?”

Himiko bit her lip, deliberately failing to answer the question. They deserved an answer. She knew that. Even if she thought they were nothing but a monster, they’d deserve it. She didn’t, of course, could never think of them that way, which made it even worse. She just couldn’t make herself say it, couldn’t force her mouth to create the necessary words. She shook her head, pulling her hand away. 

“That’s not important right now. Um, are you...okay?” 

The answer was a long time in coming. 

“I don’t know.” Slowly, they tried to sit up. It was difficult to watch. The pain was evident in each and every movement, but why? The book didn’t say anything about that. It made it sound like anyone brought back would be fine, just like before they died. That didn’t seem to be the truth. Korekiyo was wracked with tremors. By the time they got settled, leaning back against the side of her bed, they were out of breath.

She couldn’t _see_ anything wrong, but that meant next to nothing when the only skin exposed was the upper half of their face.

“W-well, how do you feel?” she tried. “What hurts?”

“Honestly?” They arched an eyebrow, and yeah, that was the kind of attitude she was used to. It didn’t necessarily do much to comfort her, but it was something. At the very least, they seemed mentally intact even if the same wasn’t true physically. “Everything. Everything hurts. If I was forced to describe it, I’d say...it feels like I was boiled alive.”

It wasn’t funny. It was the furthest possible thing from funny. And yet Kiyo’s deadpan intonation, perfect as always, started to get a giggle out of her. She bit her lip hard to suppress it, not wanting to be the kind of animal who laughed at her own girlfriend’s not-so-permanent death.

“It’s okay,” they said. “I was trying to make you laugh.”

“It shouldn’t have _worked_.” Snickering, she moved closer to let them lean against her, not caring about the dampness seeping into her own clothes as she wound her arms around them. “Really though, what can I do? How can I help?”

“You’ll have more than enough opportunities to play nursemaid, I suspect. There’s no need to rush. I’ll be alright for the next few minutes, so just sit here with me. Let me apologize, my dear.” Shaky fingers tugged their mask down, and she felt feverishly warm lips against her temple. “How long has it been?”

_“The kind of love that would motivate one to do anything for their partner,” they said in the dark, spidery fingers dragging up and down her side. “That is the most pure, the most powerful. It is the ideal all other forms of love strive for. That is what I believe.”_

_“Yeah,” she breathed, drinking in their words, absorbing them. They spoke to something deep within, something she hadn’t known she needed. “I think so too.”_

**Author's Note:**

> i'm really proud of how this one turned out. resurrected!kiyo is one of my absolute favorite himikiyo tropes and although the final product turned out a little different than what i first imagined, i'm happy with it all the same (and i'm sure it's not the last fic i'll write in this universe given how much i love it).
> 
> if you enjoyed, pls pls consider leaving a comment. i'm going through a rough time atm and it would mean a lot <3


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